Normalize This, Normalize That, How About Renormalizing Shame?
A few days ago, I had a thought-provoking conversation with a friend about how rapidly social norms are shifting, particularly online. On social media, it is now commonplace to see videos that passionately evangelize for the normalization of behaviours that, only a generation ago, were considered shameful, or at least controversial. The tone is often celebratory, framed in the language of liberation, authenticity, or “living one’s truth.” And while that language has its place, it also makes me wonder if we have gone too far in normalizing everything. And what happens to a society that no longer knows how, or when, to feel shame?
Shame has become a dirty word in modern discourse. To be “shamed” today is often seen as a form of abuse or intolerance. And yes, it is true that shame can be weaponized (just like the lack of it), especially when it stems from prejudice or is used to police identities rather than actions. But that does not mean all shame is bad. At its healthiest, shame is a moral guardrail. It tells us when we have stepped outside the bounds of what is acceptable, not just for ourselves, but for the communities we belong to. It is the quiet inner voice that says, “This is not right,” even when no one is watching. It is the social emotion that reminds us that our actions ripple outward and are bigger than us. In this sense, shame is not about condemnation; it is about conscience.
We live in a time when radical acceptance is prized above all. “Do not judge”, “let people do what they want”, “you do you.” These mantras have become cultural commandments. But what happens when they are applied without limits? We begin to lose the ability to distinguish between what is acceptable and what is merely accepted and confuse freedom with the absence of standards. In the name of inclusion, we risk moral dilution, and in trying to avoid being judgmental, we stop exercising judgment altogether.
We love to talk about freedom, and we should. But freedom cannot be exercised with impunity because, without responsibility, freedom collapses into debauchery. True freedom requires self-restraint and demands an internal compass, not just external permission. When shame disappears, so does accountability. When we strip shame of its rightful place, we leave only applause or apathy, no meaningful correction, no space for growth. Some things should make us uncomfortable and sick to the stomach. Not everything needs to be paraded or platformed, and not every urge is worth expressing; neither does every choice deserve affirmation. That does not make us oppressive; it makes us morally awake.
This is not a call for public censorship or cultural witch hunts. It is a call to restore the moral imagination. To distinguish between healthy shame and toxic shame. To embrace the kind of shame that keeps us grounded, responsible, and human. Renormalizing shame means reclaiming our collective ability to say, “That was wrong.” “I should not have done that.” “This does not reflect the values we want to uphold.” It means creating space for people to grow after failure, but not denying the failure itself. It means understanding that while not everything should be criminalized, not everything should be normalized either.
We are at a cultural crossroads. In the rush to liberate ourselves from outdated taboos, we risk trashing the very values that hold us together and allow for society to operate cohesively. Shame, rightly understood, is not the enemy of progress. It is often the soil from which growth emerges. So, let us not be so quick to dismiss it; let us talk about it. Let us use it, not to silence, but to sober. Because when we lose our sense of shame, we do not gain freedom. We lose who we are altogether.
